


The Scent of You

by Kedreeva



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Seduction, TWCP, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-14
Updated: 2013-01-14
Packaged: 2017-11-25 11:00:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/638192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kedreeva/pseuds/Kedreeva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Relax, Little Red," Ethan murmured, reaching one hand up, long fingers plucking gently at the edge of the red hood. Stiles froze at the tone, eyes wide. "I'm not here to eat you up," the wolf assured him, grinning. "Well, not all of you, anyway."</p><p>Wherein the alpha twins want something from Stiles that Derek isn't all right with him giving.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Scent of You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tmzcori](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmzcori/gifts).



> This is a commission won by Cori for the Sterek Campaign's Wolf Pack Charity Project fanfiction auction. She requested "Alpha twins seducing Stiles and Jealous!Derek not being okay with it."

            Their long strides consumed the forest floor beneath them as they ran, side by side, brown-furred shoulders brushing. It was good, this exhilarating feeling of freedom, of power as their muscles contracted and stretched, long claws tearing up the ground. In the distance they could hear the long, deep howl that called for them, but they didn't slow, didn't change course.

            "That's Deucalion," Aiden said under his breath, still hale and strong despite how far they had run at full speed.

            "I know," Ethan replied.

            "He wants a decision," Aiden pointed out. But he didn't alter his speed or direction, stayed shoulder-to-shoulder with his twin.

            "I know," Ethan said, finally slowing. He shouldered his brother, who snapped at him half-heartedly as they trotted to a stop, sniffing the air. "Which do you want?"

            "Derek's little wolf," Aiden told him without hesitation.

            Ethan snorted, almost a chuckle. "Not his _sidekick_?"

            Aiden gave him a sidelong glance, nose up to the night air, searching for the right trail. "Maybe," he said when he found it. "He's only _human_ , you know."

            "Susceptible," Ethan hissed in delight. "They're so much simpler to manipulate."

            Aiden tilted his head. "You love challenges."

            Grinning, Ethan raised his nose as well, caught the scent of the Beacon Hills alpha once more. "I didn't say it would be easy."

            Snorting, Aiden dropped to all fours. "Fine. But you tell Duke." Then he was disappearing into the darkened woods, his scent mingling with that of their quarry.

            Ethan watched him go, lifting his head to catch the scent of the McCall kid. He'd been running through the forest as well, maybe even alongside the Hale alpha the twins were tracking. They'd split here, and the twins were only interested in following one of them. Sitting back on his haunches, Ethan stood tall and he raised his jaws to the sky to answer Deucalion's howl.

            _We're hunting._

 

* * *

 

 

            The door to the vet's office jingled as it opened and closed. Stiles startled when he caught sight of the figure lounging against the side of the building. Scrambling backward, he fumbled in his hoodie pocket for the vial of wolfsbane he kept for just such an occasion, but only succeeded in tangling his hand in the fabric by the time the alpha had shouldered off the wall. A small smile played on his lips as he approached Stiles, moving just-so until he had all but crowded the entangled teen against the brick wall.

            " _Relax_ , Little Red," Ethan murmured, reaching one hand up, long fingers plucking gently at the edge of the red hood. Stiles froze at the tone, eyes wide. "I'm not here to eat you up," the wolf assured him, grinning. "Well, not all of you, anyway."

            The scent of arousal sparked the air between them as Stiles swallowed, pressing himself back against the wall to escape. "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not get eaten at all," he said shakily. His fingers wrapped around the vial of wolfsbane, gripping it tight. If only there were enough room to pull it out... but Ethan had him caged now, an arm on either side of him, palms flat against the wall behind Stiles.

            "You sure about that?" Ethan asked, breath hot against Stiles' ear. He could hear the race of Stiles' heart, a deeply satisfying tempo of speed.

            Stiles absolutely was not sure about that for a moment, not with the way the alpha's voice dropped low and gravelly. This was not a freshly turned alpha, no misshapen monster. This was power and grace and seduction so thick even Stiles could practically smell it. Yet even knowing what it was, there was - however briefly - a part of Stiles that wanted to surrender.

            The door to the clinic jingled as it slammed shut, interrupting.

            "Get out of here," Scott growled at Ethan from the entrance, claws out and eyes bright golden.

            Ethan clucked his tongue, but he shoved away from the wall, locking eyes with Stiles just long enough to see the dilation of his pupils before turning to Scott. "Oh, come on now, pretty," he cajoled, slow and smooth. "I'm not here to _fight_. I just wanted to talk."

            "There's nothing to talk about," Scott told him harshly.

            "No?" Ethan queried, then glanced over to where Stiles still stood pressed against the wall. "I suppose not today, then. See you around, Little Red."

            The boys watched as Ethan dropped easily to all fours, transforming only partway as he moved. Then he was gone, around the edge of the clinic, and Stiles let his head drop back against the brick with a clunk. Scott let his features melt back to human, gave Stiles a funny look.

            "What was all that about?" he asked.

            "I couldn't begin to guess," Stiles told him. "Come on. We're gonna be late for the movie."

 

* * *

 

  

            "Nice try," Aiden cackled as Ethan trotted past his alley. Ethan snarled, but Aiden just laughed harder.

            "Think you could have done better?" he shot back.

            "Yeah," Aiden said with a roll of his shoulder. "Race you to the theater?"

            Ethan rolled his eyes, but he bounded away from Aiden almost instantly, his twin hot on his heels.

 

* * *

 

 

            The theater was dark and filled with the scent of oily butter and popcorn as Stiles and Scott slipped inside. Allison and Lydia were already inside, and Allison waved her lit phone at them as a greeting when she spotted them entering. Luckily only the previews had started, so they scooted into the row of seats and bracketed in the girls.

            Stiles pursed his lips at the way Allison smiled at Scott, because she had said they were over but she wasn't letting him get away. She was inviting him to movies and he was falling for it and Stiles didn't have to like it, but he did have to be there to keep an eye on it. He would doubtless be hearing about it later from Scott anyway, but it paid to see what was going on without Scott's rose-tinted glasses.

            Despite the volume of the opening credits, Stiles noticed when Scott shifted, caught the motion when Scott turned his head to look toward the entrance. Stiles turned and found himself face to face with a sly alpha smile. He swallowed, shrinking back against his seat.

            There was nowhere to run. Neither of them could make a scene in the theater, so Stiles wasn't sure what exactly was going on.

            "This seat taken?" breathed the alpha twin, leaning closer.

            Stiles winced. "If I say yes will you go away?"

            "No," Aiden said smoothly. He reached between them, pulled the arm rest up until it was out of the way. Stiles wasn't sure this was one of the theaters where the armrests were supposed to do that. "You sure you want me to leave? You don't smell like it."

            Shifting uncomfortably, Stiles leaned away from the wolf because he really couldn't be held responsible for what his body thought of the situation. "Well I do," Stiles said firmly. Then he looked over, brows drawn. "What do you want? You can't start a fight here."

            "Oh, it's not a fight I want," Aiden assured him softly, smiling. For a moment, Stiles hesitated because it was almost - _almost_ \- genuine. "You're not a part of this whole... feud."

            The last word fell from his lips like it had a bad taste, and he rested his chin on Stiles' shoulder. Both of them heard the low growl from Scott and Stiles felt Lydia's fingertips on his wrist. They were watching the situation, aware that if any of them attacked _here_ that it would also reveal Scott. Whatever was happening, Stiles was going to have to put an end to it like a human; with words.

            But Aiden's nose was brushing the line of his jaw, his breath warm on Stiles' neck, and he found himself at a loss for words. Aiden didn't seem to be suffering the same malady, however, because he was murmuring next to Stiles' ear so softly even Scott would have trouble hearing over the din of the movie's opening.

            "We don't want to hurt you, Stiles," he told the human, relishing the little shiver saying his name caused. "We can be very sweet if you let us. I could show you, if you want?" This he followed with the soft slide of one broad, human hand over Stiles' jeans, from knee to thigh.

           A little squeak escaped Stiles and he seized hold of Aiden's hand in both of his, moving so that he could face the twin, get a little _distance_. "Then how about you start by pretending you can sit through a movie like a decent human being?" he hissed, meeting Aiden's eyes.

            Aiden smiled, then, and slipped his hand from Stiles' grasp, made a show of folding it in his own lap with his other hand like Stiles had defeated him. Straightening, he lifted his chin to look up at the screen, eyes tracking the images. "If you want a date, you've got it."

            "It's not a- It's... whatever," Stiles huffed, settling back into his seat, uncomfortably aware of the werewolf's proximity.

            True to his word, however, Aiden sat quietly beside him for the duration, slipping out just before the end. The moment the credits began to roll Scott was across the chairs, checking Stiles over, asking him questions Stiles didn't answer. It was Lydia that finally smacked Scott upside the head and forced him to calm down.

            "He's fine," she told him firmly. "Why don't you and Allison go get the cars?"

            Stiles handed over his keys to Scott and waited guiltily under Lydia's stare until they were out of even Scott's hearing range. "What?" he asked when she continued to just stare at him.

            She rolled her eyes. "I just hope you don't believe a word that comes out of that alpha's mouth," she told him seriously. "You know what they're here for."

            Sighing, Stiles ran a hand over his short-cropped hair. "I know," he told her tiredly. "What was I supposed to do, start a scene in the middle of a public place? Look, I'll just-"

            "You need to tell Derek," she interrupted before he could tell her what he would 'just' do. "And don't tell me it's fine," she told him as she moved past his seat and began heading for the exit. "Because I heard him say he'd see you around. They're up to something."

            Stiles pursed his lips, but he hopped the back of the seat into the aisle and followed her from the theater.

 

* * *

 

 

            Aiden slunk around the edge of the building, circling half around his brother to get to his side. Ethan made a face at him, and Aiden chuckled. Together they watched the four teens climbing into their vehicles, ears straining to hear their conversation. Movie chatter, nothing serious.

            "You were right," Aiden admitted softly. "It won't be easy."

            A smile stole onto Ethan's lips and he glanced sidelong at his brother. "I won't say I told you so."

            "Good," Aiden responded. "I'd hate to have to rip your throat out on such a nice night."

            Ethan elbowed his twin, who just laughed.

 

* * *

 

 

            Ignition rumbling to a stop, Stiles pulled the key from his Jeep and sat back in the seat. Of course Derek would know he was there, because Derek would have heard his Wrangler a mile away, but sometimes Stiles liked to pretend his friends were normal. Although, calling Derek a friend was... taking liberties, to say the least. But Lydia was right; telling Derek what was going on was probably the best course of action. He'd already told Scott everything that happened while driving him home.

            So, when Stiles eventually decided that sitting in his Jeep any longer would become awkward, he hopped out, locked up, and headed for the dark apartment building. It was past ten already so even though it was summer, the sun had set. He stepped into the halo of light cast over the porch and reached to press the button beside the hastily scratched "Hale" marker. It buzzed before he could, and he knew Derek was listening for him. He sighed.

            Derek was in the doorway waiting for him when he finished trudging up the stairs to the second story. He stepped aside and allowed Stiles to enter, though Stiles had to scoot around him anyway. Stiles didn't miss the sniff Derek gave him as he passed, nor the wrinkle of his nose. This was going to be interesting to say the least.

            "Scott called," Derek announced before Stiles could say a word.

            "Thank you, Scott, you nosy jerk," Stiles groaned, adding an eye roll for good measure. "What did he tell you?"

            "You've got a pair of alphas on your tail," Derek answered calmly, closing the door with a click that was very loud in the unfurnished apartment. It was weird how empty it was; Derek had only moved in a couple weeks ago. He was still sleeping on a blow-up mattress on the floor. "That you didn't seem to care."

            "I care," Stiles corrected, leaning against the wall of the front room. "I just don't see what I can do about it. They're alphas, I'm human, there's two of them, one of me..."

            "There's not one of you," Derek argued firmly. "You're part of a pack. Ah-" he interrupted with Stiles made to protest. "It doesn't matter whose pack. You have people who are willing to protect you, to fight alongside you. So, if they're... doing something to hurt you... or something you don't like..."

            Stiles gave him a strange look, head cocked just a little. It was almost as if Derek were trying too hard, forcing himself to grit out those words. If Stiles didn't know better, he'd have said that Derek was fishing for the answer he wanted. Stiles just shook his head.

            "It's not- I mean, yeah, I don't _want_ them getting in my space, but they're after something right?" Stiles asked plainly. "I mean, they have to be after something if they're hitting on me."

            A muscle in Derek's jaw jumped, and he looked away from Stiles. "It's a possibility," he conceded, like there might have been other reasons. His tone earned him another look from Stiles.

            "Well, if they're looking for something, or if they're after something, don't you think we should figure out what it is?" Stiles asked. "Isn't the best way to do that going along with them? They'll ask the wrong question or do the wrong thing eventually."

            A soft growl roughed the back of Derek's throat, cut off by him clearing it like he'd been coughing. Stiles couldn't help wondering what the hell was going on with him today. "It's not _safe_ ," Derek said at last. "They could just want you dead. Or worse."

            "Worse than dead?" Stiles echoed, confused and a little worried that maybe Derek knew of something that actually was worse than death that the alphas could do to him. "I don't think so; if they wanted me dead, the one that found me at Deaton's could have killed me before Scott got there. I think they want something else."

            "There are a lot of things they could want that wouldn't be pleasant, Stiles," Derek informed him levelly. Like it was serious, like it _mattered_.

            "Okay, what's your problem?" Stiles snapped. "I'm not some helpless kid. I can do this, you know. I can help."

            Derek rolled his eyes, because that wasn't the point at all. "I'm not worried about- It's not about whether you can do it or not. What happens when they figure out you're not going to give them what they want? You can't lie to them, Stiles. They can hear it."

            Stiles pursed his lips, but he shrugged. "Then, I won't lie. And, if it gets bad, then you guys can come to the rescue, okay?"

            Frowning, Derek held up his hands like a surrender. "It's a bad idea. But, you're going to do it anyway."

            "Yeah," Stiles affirmed, shoving gently off the wall and moving toward the door. Derek let him past, but followed him to the exit. Just as Stiles put his hand on the knob, Derek reached out and snagged his sleeve. Stiles paused, turned to look. "What?"

            "Just... Just be careful, okay?" Derek requested softly. "I don't like it. They're really dangerous. They'll hurt you if you give them a chance."

            "I'll be careful," Stiles told him, shaking his sleeve loose. Derek was being very strange, but as per usual when it came to Derek, Stiles shoved the weirdness to the back of his mind, and left.

 

* * *

 

 

            Stiles' plan, so far as plans Stiles had made regarding the supernatural in his life usually went, was not a bad one. He locked his windows and the front door even in daylight, which caused his father to give him strange looks. Stiles being obsessive about things was not atypical, but paranoid was another story. He did his best to make sure that he was not alone, especially when darkness fell, but he wasn't always successful.

            The twins caught him at a gas station after he'd dropped Scott off for the night, roaring up on zippy little motorbikes. They caged Stiles in, helmets in their laps, all sultry smiles and rich voices. Stiles had been unprepared, but they had only asked why he was avoiding them. Aiden wanted to know if he'd given any consideration to his last offer, which seemed to piss off his brother to some degree.

            _That_ at least was interesting. _That_ was the reason Stiles had offered to come to dinner with Aiden. There was something going on between the twins, something Stiles couldn't quite put his finger on.

            The dinner was not as terrible as Stiles had assumed it would be. Aiden was not the most brilliant conversationalist, but he wasn't the dullest either. He asked questions Stiles could answer truthfully, and seemed to listen to Stiles' awkward answers. Stiles asked his own questions, ones about Ethan, ones about how an alpha pack comes to be a pack at all, ones about how Aiden ended up in all this mess. Aiden _answered_ him, which was unexpected, but Stiles really took all the answers with a grain of salt.

            Stiles had taken Ethan running later that week. He'd driven his Jeep down a smooth, twisty back road and Ethan had followed along at the vehicle's side, long strides flexing his entire body until he was damp with sweat, chest heaving, until Stiles was running low on gas. Stiles, despite his best efforts, was fascinated by the flow of muscle and sinew beneath the twin's golden-brown coat. He really did make a beautiful wolf.

            Perhaps the worst part of letting the twins get near to him was the way they had no respect for personal space. Constantly Stiles found himself stepping away from one or the other, found himself crowded up against walls until he could smell them on his clothes. Until Scott complained that he reeked of Other Pack, until Isaac and Erica both wrinkled their noses when they saw him coming, even before they could smell him. Boyd was the only one who didn't seem to mind, but Boyd never really seemed to mind anything so far as Stiles had seen.

            It didn't get better, the longer it went on. Three weeks of this had Stiles no better off than the first time at the vet's, no closer to figuring out what the wolves wanted with their strange behavior. Always they avoided mention of the Beacon Hills pack. They never asked about Derek or Scott or the other betas. Stiles even tried to bring it up first, sitting at the top of the climbing wall, calling down questions to where Aiden was carefully picking his way up the colored protrusions. Aiden had only chuckled at his attempt.

            It wasn't until they cajoled him into a game of paintball that he made real progress. They joined a game on a sunny Saturday afternoon with people they didn't recognize, people that didn't know anything about werewolves and their crazy set of supernatural skills. Stiles thought for sure the twins just wanted to show off, until the first two splotches of red blossomed on his chest.

            "Hey!" he cried when the third paintball splattered on his hip. "You're supposed to shoot the other team!"

            Ethan had rounded the large tree trunk he'd been taking cover behind, a sly smile on his lips. "The other team?" he asked innocently. "But my own team is so much... better."

            Stiles frowned, because they were both terrible about twisting words around like that. He could play too, could keep up with them. "Yeah? You've been trying pretty hard for the other team these past few weeks if you ask me. Sudden change of heart?"

            Snickering at his brother, Aiden slipped up behind Stiles, smoothed one hand through the paint coating Stiles' hip. Stiles jumped, whipped around to face him, and got a smear of paint on his cheek for his trouble. "Not the other team," Aiden assured him. "Just you."

            "Just me, huh?" Stiles asked, and for once he held his ground, let Aiden get into his space, nose at Stiles' jaw, coated in paint where they touched. "Not after my pack?"

            Ethan's quiet puff of laughter from behind him was warm on Stiles' ear. "Your _pack_ ," he breathed. "We can handle them by themselves."

            Eyes closing, Stiles allowed himself a small smile. "They're not alone," he told them quietly. "They'll never be by themselves. They'll always have me."

            "That's a shame," Ethan admitted, and Stiles could feel the shrug against his back. "We really did like you, Stiles."

            A howl rent the air even as Aiden's claws touched the skin of Stiles' chest through his paintball armor. Both alphas raised their heads, looking around. Ethan's warmth disappeared from Stiles' back as he turned to scan the trees. Stiles smiled as a second howl echoed through the woods, Scott's howl this time, picked up by the other betas from all around the woods.

            "I told you... not alone," he murmured to Aiden, who snarled at him.

            Stiles flailed backward as Derek and Scott arrived, the former bowling over Aiden before he could lash out at Stiles. The skirmish was over quickly, the twins taking off more because this wasn't in Deucalion's plans than because Derek and Scott could have beaten them. Stiles let his head fall back onto the ground we they disappeared into the forest.

            "Cutting it pretty close," Stiles said as Scott loomed over him, offered him a hand up.

            "You're welcome," Scott told him, nose wrinkling. "You reek, dude."

            "It's your cologne," Stiles pointed out. "It was your idea."

            "It's not the cologne," Derek said softly, scanning the woods, head cocked to listen to where Isaac, Erica, and Boyd were around the playing field. Close enough to be helpful, far enough to cover the grounds. Derek looked over to Stiles, raked his eyes over the teen. "It's their scent. All over you."

            "Whatever... it worked," Stiles said, rubbing his chest. His shirt was damp with blood and he wondered if the claw marks would leave scars. "They're trying to separate us."

            "We heard," Scott told him. He looked to Derek, who shrugged like there was nothing they could do about it now. "We'll just have to be careful. Stick together."

            Stiles grinned. "We can have sleepovers at Derek's!" he joked.

            "Not a chance," Derek growled. "Go home. That goes for you three as well!" he shouted, knowing his betas would hear him. "Stay together."

            "Need a ride?" Stiles offered to Scott, who nodded tiredly. "Derek?"

            Derek just snorted.

 

* * *

 

 

            Even before the knock came, Derek knew it was Stiles at his door. He had heard the Jeep coming, heard his footsteps, could still smell the reek of the cologne Stiles had used to cover the scent of the pack. Derek could still smell it on his own skin as well, and it was disconcerting to say the least. He shouldn't smell like Stiles, shouldn't smell the same. Not like this.

            He met Stiles at the door, didn't step aside this time. He could smell the antiseptic on Stiles' chest, smell the faint traces of dried blood. "You okay?" he asked quietly, folding his arms and leaning against the doorway. "You're not supposed to be alone."

            Stiles' gaze flicked past him, to Derek's empty apartment, and then back to Derek's pale eyes. "Neither are you."

            "What are you doing here, Stiles?" Derek asked, instead of addressing the dig. "Haven't you gotten into enough trouble for one day?"

            "The amount of trouble I get- Look, I just wanted to say thank you for... you know, saving me. Again," Stiles told him. "If I didn't go along with their whole... scheme, they might've just killed me. Scott was right about that much. So, thanks."

            Derek raised one eyebrow. "You couldn't have called?"

            "Dude, you keep your phone off," Stiles pointed out. "You know, it's not hard to say you're welcome. It's what people do when someone says thank you."

            "You're not welcome," Derek told him, with an overly-patient smile. "You didn't really think this one through. They could have killed you before we got there. You had to let them get... too close."

            Stiles tilted his head, brow furrowing, because there was no way Derek was upset that he was... but the look on Derek's face, the way he wouldn't meet Stiles' eyes. He had seen that look before; not on Derek, but on Scott, all those times when Jackson was hitting on Allison. He knew that look.

            "You're not upset I put myself in danger," Stiles said slowly. "We're in danger all the time. You're upset I let them touch me." Satisfaction curled in Stiles' gut when Derek only just barely kept from baring his teeth at the idea. "You're upset it wasn't you."

            Derek rolled his eyes, turning away from Stiles with a snort. "Go home, Stiles."

            "Do I smell like them?" Stiles called through the doorway, before Derek could close it. Derek froze. "Do I?"

            Derek grit his teeth, but he took a deep breath, looked back to Stiles. "Yes. Yeah, you do. You stink of another pack, another alpha."

            Stiles took a hesitant step forward, splayed one hand on the door and pushed lightly. Derek let it go, let it open enough for Stiles to cross the threshold. "I bet that drives you _crazy_ ," Stiles murmured, meeting Derek's gaze. Derek looked to the side but he nodded, just barely. "Then maybe you should do something about it."

            "You shouldn't say things like that," Derek told him, but it wasn't a no and so Stiles stepped closer. He'd gotten used to werewolves being in his space lately. Derek swallowed thickly, bringing up a hand, laying it on Stiles' ribs as if to push him back.

            Stiles actually had the gall to grin. "No, I shouldn't say things like I want to smell like _your_ pack. I want to smell like _you_ , Derek. I shouldn't say things like-"

            But Derek didn't get to find out what other things Stiles shouldn't say, because Derek was already kissing Stiles, his hand sliding from Stiles' ribs to his hip, drawing him into the apartment as he closed the door behind them. He grunted as Stiles grabbed onto his shirt, tugged him gently across the front room until his back hit the wall, jarred them together. Then Derek's hands were snaking under Stiles' shirt, warm hands splaying over his ribcage, sliding around to his back.

            "Stiles?" Derek asked, breathless even as Stiles kissed him again. Stiles simply hummed against his lips in response and it took every last drop of Derek's control to stand still, just keep him pinned up against the wall. "If you don't leave right now... you're not leaving tonight. Not until every inch of you smells like me."

            "Promise?" Stiles murmured, fingers of both hands curling in the fabric of Derek's shirt.

           Softly, Derek smiled, rubbed his cheek against Stiles'. "Oh, I promise," he whispered, breath warm against Stiles' ear. "Every. Last. Inch."


End file.
